


In The Glare Of Hell

by TCD



Series: My Comforter [3]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Feels, Friendship, Frottage, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Post-Coital Cuddling, Psychological Trauma, Slurs, Tully Really Cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCD/pseuds/TCD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone is pleased to see Tully's and Juice's relationship progress. How does Juice cope when Tully is taken away from him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-typical “Sons of Anarchy” content, specifically season seven. Also spoilers. 
> 
> Continued apologies to Emily Bronte for the title.

“Didjoo steal a banana las' night or are you happy ta see me?” Juice mumbled into his pillow. The sounds of the prison were gearing up for another day, but he had a buffer to them in the form of his lean cellmate-and-something-else-maybe curled up next to him. Neither were morning people but inevitably Tully would climb down from his bunk and crawl into Juice's for some early sex.

“Hate 'nanas.” Tully rumbled over the top of his head. The sound gave Juice goosebumps and Tully's hips grinding into his ass made him actually shiver. “Wan' this ass.” Tully's long arms wiggled under and around Juice to pull him close. Not like Juice was going to try and get away or even could. “'S mine.”

Papi was positively talkative this morning. It made Juice smile a bit. “Mm yeah.” He shifted a bit so he could reach himself. Get his hands in between them, not to stop Tully but to help him out. Just another typical wakeup for them. He lightly petted the pants-covered erection before slipping his own pjs down and exposing his backside. Just enough that Papi could feel bare skin, not enough to catch the attraction of others. Juice wiggled, grinding himself on Tully once more before sliding his hands back to look for Tully's. The man would take his cock out when he was ready.

Was it queer? Probably. But for the first time in a long time Juice felt safe. He was regaining a sort of confidence in himself; the constant self-loathing he'd had was slowly being pushed away. So what if it took being a prison bitch to an Aryan Brotherhood shot-caller? Tully liked him, and by extension his crew treated him with something resembling respect. He was even scheduled for time with their tattoo artist to blast over the Sons ink on his forearm and chest. Cover them and hide the part of his life he could no longer have. That fact he was still having trouble with accepting but he was working on it. Even in the two weeks since Tully had brought him into his cell he'd gotten far in that respect. It didn't make his chest ache so much to think about.

Tully's rocking and shifting against his bare backside brought him from his thoughts. More rumbling from Papi again. Not words though, just a bit of a warning so he didn't startle when Tully's bared cock pressed between his cheeks. Tully had somehow freed himself without letting go of Juice. Somehow knowing that it would bother him to be released, even for a moment. “Papi...” Juice let out the whispered name he'd held back til this point. He wasn't going to be filled, he knew that. Tully now wanted to always take the time to stretch and prepare him slowly,but that meant that they were less likely to properly fuck in the mornings. Evenings, though, and at night? Juice was getting laid more in prison than he had on the outside.

The response to his quiet sound of need was a squeeze of Tully's arms and another thrust between his cheeks. “Imma mark you s'much today, baby.” Lightning danced down from his ear where Tully was nibbling. “On your back, make you cum...” Juice was already panting and he bit his cheek to keep from moaning. It was especially difficult when Tully reached down the front of his pants, gripping his cock in that perfectly firm grip. “An' more.”

Juice could feel the smirk against his skull. For a moment he wondered what Tully had planned but then he forgot to care with the work those fingers were suddenly doing around him. He was touching all of Juice's sensitive spots, making him warm all over and involuntarily squirm. “T-tully..” Another slip and he arched his spine to be able to press his back on Tully's chest. Juice was an ass man but Tully's upper body was in a close second place for him.

“Shhhh, baby.” Tully returned his begging with an order. “Gonna wake everyone up.” He started to rub harder, panting into Juice's ear which he now returned to nibbling. Papi was being a tease and it wasn't fair; still Juice held as still as he could and stayed quiet. The glide of skin against skin, and Tully's noises were intoxicating and overwhelming. Juice was throbbing in Tully's hands and he realized that his Papi's thrusts on his ass were getting rougher. Enough that he could slip down between his cheeks, almost touching that hole he wasn't going to fuck right now. “S-such a perfect ass, baby.” And then a matching stroke of his cock that had Juice writhing again. “So perfect to fuck. To touch. To stare at.” Another nibble, and Juice twitched around Tully. They both moaned softly even if it was for different reasons.. “J-just like the rest of you, beautiful.”

Juice flushed with the compliment. “Thank you, Papi.” Tully made him feel so good not just physically but emotionally. He was generous with the praise for all of his men but for Juice he was doubly so. Again he'd gotten more of it in prison than out. More rocking and Juice tried something different to please the man behind him. He squeezed his ass cheeks around Tully's cock, tightening. The sound that started and then suddenly muffled in the back of his skull clearly told him how much his Papi liked that. He did it again just to feel Tully's shudder. It was a rush to have that kind of power. It wasn't really power if he was honest. Juice just wanted to repay all the things that Tully had done for him. Had done,was doing. Tully's hand hadn't stopped moving in it's slow strokes except when Juice had distracted him. Juice was creeping closer to the edge than he liked. They had a rule now; Tully would cum first and then Juice would, if Tully wanted him to. So far, Tully had wanted him to. Enjoyed holding Juice down as he came apart, but he regularly threatened to leave him wanting just to see him squirm and suffer in the best way. That wasn't going to happen today, the way Tully kept touching him. Occasionally releasing his cock to slide up his shirt and play with Juice's nipples. Touching them was like an electric shock to his groin, and when Tully discovered that he never failed to use it against him.

“Close, baby?” Juice nodded, his breathing shaky. Papi always knew by how his cock betrayed him with the amount it leaked. He stopped stroking though he kept his palm pressed on Juice's groin. Giving Juice something to rub against. “Me too.” Tully thrust, panting into his ear. “Th-thinking about being inside your tight ass tonight.” Another thrust and if the bunk hadn't been bolted to the wall it would have slammed into it. Tully groaned again, and he himself was on the verge of just letting go. Juice always knew that, too.

“Papiii.” Juice whined for him, encouraging Tully as Tully so often encouraged him. It was going to be messy but Juice wanted to be marked. Let the others see what he was to Tully. “Please, c-cum..”

He might have been a little loud because Tully's free hand slid up from its place on his chest to clamp around his mouth. Of course that only made it better, having his air cut off like that. Papi always took care of him. “Shhh, baby. Shhh.” Tully growled now, rocking his hips quicker and quicker. They were both throbbing, and Juice could almost feel Tully tipping over the edge, finally. “Yess...” A smooth adjustment and Juice could feel Tully's cock now resting on top of his ass instead of in between. “Mine.” Tully murmured and then moaned as he came. Warm cum painted Juice's back, sliding down his skin as Tully held him tight.

Juice was feeling a little dizzy with Papi's hand on his face but that only made him harder. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly twitching as Tully stroked him again. He didn't have to speak, just got his fingers right in those perfect spots that brought Juice closer and closer, kept the inferno raging inside of him. “I got you, baby.” Papi whispered again, leaning close though not enough to smear cum on himself. “Cum for me, beautiful.” The younger man couldn't help himself. Didn't want to. His desire was too great and Tully egging him on certainly didn't help. Juice would have gasped softly had his Papi's not been there as he climaxed. He always squirmed hard, the release taking over and making him incapable of holding still. It only made Tully hold on tighter and the warmth of the other man's body on his only extended his pleasure. Juice saw stars while Tully's hands, his perfect hands, kept touching his cock until it was almost too much. Then he let go to just cradle him, letting Juice fly around in his own head but staying perfectly, safely, anchored against him. Papi always blew his mind with how good he could make Juice feel.

Juice and Tully laid there panting softly, basking as long as they could in the afterglow. Juice was sticky in multiple places on his body, but he'd felt so good it didn't matter at all. Finally though, Tully released him to stretch cat-like before rolling off the bunk. "Alright, baby." He looked down at Juice for a moment before turning to do his business. The smirk had returned to his face, Juice could tell from his tone. "Breakfast."

“Then what?” He himself rolled over onto his back. Only briefly though, the stickiness made him immediately sit up to get off the bed. He was one hell of a mess, he thought, and of course Tully looked perfectly groomed. At least from the back. “Pass me my washcloth?”

“Nope.” Tully half turned to grin at him. “I wasn't kidding, baby. And then you'll have to see what happens afterward.”

Juice couldn't help but stare. The teasing wasn't malicious; Juice just seemed to attract it no matter who he spent time with. Tully wasn't any exception. The young man stared, then sighed. He did have one tool in his toolbox. Once Tully had adjusted himself, finished with the toilet Juice padded behind him, letting out his softest little mewl. “Papi, please?”

A pause, and then Tully reached to the sink to hand him the fabric. “Spoiled.” He huffed a bit before changing out of his pajamas. As Juice cleaned himself off a bit he had to turn to keep from staring at the nearly-naked man. Tully was his type of guy he was finding out, even if some of it was just through stolen touches late at night. Lean and strong and oh so very tall. A part of him wanted to openly stare, openly reach for his hand and hold it but they all had reputations to keep here. Tully most of all, so Juice kept his wants to himself.

“Thank you.” Juice set the washcloth back now that Tully had vacated the spot, throwing on a clean prison uniform. Juice could still feel cum between his ass and a little on his back, but his front wasn't uncomfortable anymore. And he didn't look freshly fucked, either. Not that it mattered, everyone knew that that he was Tully's to do so. Juice sat down at their little desk-like projection of steel, wanting to give his bed a chance to dry. Idly he started flipping through the book that had caught his eye last time the library cart had passed by; a book on advanced databases. He'd dropped the computer hobby in the last few years despite being the information officer for the club. Now was as good a time as any to catch up with it. Maybe earn some certifications for whenever he was on the outside.

“You're welcome.” Tully was watching him again, those long legs crossed as he sat on Juice's bed away from the wet spot. He uncrossed them before he stood up, leaning over Juice to glance at the calendar. Juice couldn't hide the shiver at being so close to the other man. Tully counted the days and while his arm hid his movement from the front he dropped a light little kiss on the crown of Juice's head. Juice didn't consider the oddity of the concealment; fucking was one thing, true affection like that was a little verboten by unspoken prison rules. “Good.” Whether it was for trying with the computer shit or other things Juice wasn't going to ask. The touch was nice. “Mm, let's see...” He counted, remaining where he was over Juice. “15 days. Excellent.”

“Since?” Juice had a feeling he knew. Had it only been two weeks since Tully refused to kill him? It felt like much longer, but in the best way.

“Daniel was thrown into the hole.” Tully smirked. “They found him with a dead chink's blood all over him after that riot. Good riddance, in my opinion. The chink, not Danny.” Juice had a feeling that it wasn't Danny who had actually committed the murder. “Be nice to have him back; I have to tell all the other knuckleheads how to do their jobs. Talk entirely too much.”

A bit of a chorus of 'Fuck you too, Tully' from the other Brand members told Juice that they'd had an audience of awoken cons now. Cell doors were starting to open as well. Tully moved from his spot and Juice ignored the ache in his chest for the loss. Only for a moment, because their doors opened and Tully strode out. Juice had to hurry to keep up with him and was joined of course by the others to surround Tully in a loose circle. Juice's place to Tully's left seemed wrong to him still being that that had been the place for the VP in his old life. It was accidental that he'd ended up there now, but the other AB didn't have a problem with it. Nuke was behind him, as usual and Juice made an effort to stand up straight. He and Nuke spoke the most, with a common background of growing up in New York City. The others more or less ignored him, which suited Juice just fine. Slightest bit of respect or not, Juice felt better when he knew he didn't have their attention.

The group as a whole made their way to the chow hall, and then through the line. Safety in numbers was the rule in Stockton. They made it to their table, and Juice sat where he had a permanent spot now. Across from Tully. Yes his back was to the general cafeteria but he always had a pair of eyes looking out for him. Juice started to eat the slop. Eggs were too runny, the toast was somehow wet and the bacon snapped like a twig it was so overcooked. “I would kill someone for a proper breakfast.” Nuke declared.

“No shit. Craving a decent cinnamon roll.” Juice was surprised by his own contribution as he picked at the food. No one stopped him, so he continued. “Best one I ever had...this huge truck stop on i25 as we were coming back from Sturgis.” The one time the Redwood Sons had gone, anyway. Of course it was a cover for a gun run but they didn't need to know that. “Went the long way home through Colorado. Johnstown or some shit like that. Damn, it was good. Almost as big as the plate.” Juice practically drooled at the thought of it, and used the memory to be able to choke down some more of the toast.

“What'd you ride?” One of the other brothers spoke up, the others listening. Politely curious on a safe topic.

“That one?” Juice had to think. “The Super Glide. Dyna family.” He smiled a bit before skewering the eggs. “...Some fucked up pigs seized it like. Two years ago. Took it apart.” Juice shook his head, it was still a fresh wound. Liberace's bike had been a decent substitute but it was nothing like his first bike.

“Shit man, I'm sorry.” Nuke patted him roughly on the back. “I hope you got 'em back.”

He hadn't, but Jax did. Not without some ribbing about the sparkly green color but Jax had taken care of it. Before things turned ugly. “Oh yeah, we did.” He supposed that bike had gotten taken too, either by the government or the Sons. If he ever got out of here, he'd have very little to start with; his business ventures had also been stolen or folded. Good thing he'd paid off his little condo and the lawyer had made sure the fees were in trusts to get taken care of while he was in the pen. At least he wouldn't be homeless.

A nudge at his knee made Juice come out of his thoughts. Tully had noticed his silence and pulled him away from those darker things. Papi taking care of him, again, and Tully's further staring at him confirmed it. Then he spoke. “So, gentlemen,” the shot-caller sat up a little straighter then, to address them all at once. “We've got the outside weight room this week, thank you for your patience on that.” The rest of the men mumbled their appreciation; Juice was reminded of church. He wondered if Tully and Clay had ever met. They certainly had the same mannerisms. Maybe it was a head honcho thing. “Keep an eye out for Daniel, let him know where I am if you see him.” Tully popped his last piece of toast into his mouth, looking at Juice for a significant beat before speaking. “We'll be...by the benches.”

Juice couldn't help the blush with the surrounding snickering and side-eyes. It clicked for him, finally. Tully was dragging him outside whether he really wanted to or not. He had to trust that Papi was doing the right thing, that he'd be safe even outside with the rest of the population and out of the immediate camera eyes. “Anytime we're ready, boys.” Tully laced his fingers together and was clearly watching Juice again. Letting his baby make the first move, or just watching for his own pleasure? The younger man wasn't entirely sure.

“I ain't hungry, and I'm getting' flabbier by the second.” Nuke shoved his tray away, but then reached for it again because he was going to have to take it to the line for the dish room. “Let's get a move on.” Juice and the rest of the men nodded in agreement but as usual they waited for Tully to stand before they did.

While they waited in line, Tully pulled Juice in front of him, bending over to whisper in his ear. “Gonna fuck you outside, baby.” Of course everyone politely ignored Tully's treatment of his punk, and by extension how his punk started to squirm. Juice couldn't help it. Worse, Tully continued. “And when we come inside there's going to be cum running down your thighs.”

Juice was proud that he was able to hold his tongue until after he'd set his tray down to get washed. He'd even managed to adjust himself on the sly before Tully wrapped one arm around his shoulder and yanked him close for the walk to the yard. Juice had to admit it was a good way of getting him out of the confines of their cell. Or at least rewarding him for being dragged out. Although, there was one tiny problem. “Can't fuck outside...” Juice mumbled into Tully's shoulder.

“Wanna bet?” Tully snickered, clear that it was going to be a bet that Juice would lose. “There's always spots.” They both blinked against the California sunshine once they stepped out. “Miss my sunglasses.” Tully started to lead Juice towards a set of picnic tables near the middle of the field, and Mickey followed but the rest of the Brotherhood members broke off to a caged weightlifting area.

“And sunscreen.” Mickey sat down on the bench of one, leaving enough room for Tully to climb up onto the table of it. “We both burn like motherfuckin' kikes.”

“Mmhm.” Tully, after settling left a space for Juice to sit on the bench between his legs. Honestly it was somewhat prohibited of a position and Juice knew it, but being there close to Tully made him warm with pleasure and acceptance. He just had to remember not to lean and nuzzle those thighs like he wanted to. Instead Juice scanned the field and listened to them. “First rice delivery in our new restaurant make it okay?” Code, for his benefit. He could claim if pressed they'd only been talking about a legitimate business venture. Juice had to thank Tully for thinking of him and he fractionally leaned back to bump his head on Tully's fingers. A little pet down the back of his neck told Juice he'd been acknowledged.

“Made it just fine, the stir fry bowls are selling well.” Was it laughably easy to break? Yes, but the thought was still appreciated. “The free samples are definitely helping.”

Tully snorted. “Of course, who doesn't like free samples? Just make sure the bowls are adequately priced to cover them.” Another little pet and Juice got goosebumps.

“You know if you delivered you could tack on another fee. Stoners love cheap Chinese brought right to them.” Juice grinned and looked up to be able to see Tully's face. He couldn't help his smart mouth sometimes. Honestly he'd always been interested in the purely business aspects of their lawbreaking even if neither Jax nor Clay before him had let him get anywhere near it. “Ow!”

Tully had flicked his ear for the snark, though the look in his eyes was a curious one. Like he hadn't considered it. “Yeah but you add an extra level of danger for your delivery guys, and paying them more on top of all that's a bitch. On the other hand...” Tully straightened suddenly. “Could see what Daniel thinks.” He gave a tap to Juice's shoulder, and when he stood Tully hopped off the table. Juice stayed where he was, watching the two ranking members approach each other.

He saw it a split second before anything happened. The flash, metal in Daniel's hand reflecting off of the sun behind them. Juice didn't have time to give a warning. Daniel was too quick with the swing and Tully staggered back. Enough that Juice could see red blossomed across his chest and with another movement of Daniel's arm Tully went down with another line of red at his side.

For one second Juice's head swam and then everything snapped into clarity. Perfect, rage-filled clarity and it propelled him away from the bench. Before Daniel had a chance to drop down and finish the job Juice was on top of him and bringing his fist down. It landed with a satisfying crunch on the other man's face.

He wasn't Jax, who could go toe to toe with an Irish bare knuckled boxer, or Tig who brawled for fun or their muscle Opie. But he had something to fight for behind him and that drove him. Juice brought his fist down again, and his free hand caught the wrist with the shiv in mid-air as it went for him now. He could hear the blaring fight alarms somewhere far away but he ignored them. Ignored the pain in his groin as Daniel brought a knee up in between his legs. Juice smashed his head into the other man's face and they both lost their balance. Juice landed square on Daniel's chest and sat up as quick as he could. Now he could use both hands and he was slugging, hitting the bloodied target in front of him until it felt less and less like a human face and more like hamburger. How _dare_ he touch Tully like that. Betray him, hurt him. If he killed him Juice would never stop hunting this man. Any friends he had, Juice would get them too. Family. More shouting around him.

“Get up, idiot!” Juice was suddenly grabbed and hauled off of the other con, and merely reacted with another swing. It didn't connect though, as Nuke stepped back in almost surprise. “Come _on.”_ He yanked Juice away from the unmoving Daniel, pulling him back towards the inside of the prison.

“Tully!” Juice twisted trying to get back towards the shot-caller. Nuke moved with him, and then got behind him so that he couldn't see. Couldn't see if he was alone and unsafe and couldn't see what Tully looked like. All he could think about now was what he'd seen, two spreading patches of blood. “Tully!”

“Mickey's with him.” Nuke held him tight, pushing him in with the crowd. They were locking the prison down. “He's tough, boy so stop—nng! Fighting me!” And Juice was fighting him, the rage leaving and being replaced by sheer terror. It had the same effect, though. Razor sharp clarity dedicated to one task. He had to make sure Tully was alright. He wasn't sure if he could live without him. “Jesus.” Nuke snarled as he finally shoved Juice into his cell, standing there until it had closed. “Wash your goddamned hands and your face.”

Juice panted in the middle of the cell, staring at Nuke. Adrenaline was still flowing even if it was cold fear now. “ _Do it._ ” Juice turned, following the orders he was given while his mind whirled around and around. When he was done Juice couldn't help but start an agitated pacing. At least it gave his heart a reason to beat so quickly. “Shit, Pearson, come on. There's somethin' wrong with the kid.”

“It's lockdown, Fleischer. Get to your cell.” The big man glanced one more at Juice, with something of a look of worry, before he obeyed the short blonde in front of them both.

“Ortiz.” Once Nuke was safely away the woman looked at Juice. She spoke like she was calming a terrified animal. Admittedly, Juice was one step away from it. “Sit, you're shaking pretty hard.”

He hadn't realized it but now that she'd pointed it out, he couldn't stop despite his efforts. Juice instead did, chewing on his lip for a moment before he caught himself. This was entirely undignified at best and at worst gave the other Brand members ammunition against him. “Juice. 'S Juice.” He took a breath, trying to fix on something other than his panic. It wasn't really working.

“Alright, Juice. You want me to call the clinic?”

It was very, very tempting. Yeah he might lose all of his shit again but he might be able to see Tully. Check on him. On the other hand if he saw Daniel he might start hitting him again. Juice shook his head. “I'll be fine...P-pearson, right?” He had to look up at her, had to give her a grin that he didn't feel was genuine. “Thanks, though.” Tully was always polite to the guards, he could be too.

“Okay. If you change your mind, I'll be here on the unit for a while. We get it's rough seeing your cellie in a fight.” She gave him a smile, and walked away. Doing a head count, and, he belatedly realized, checking for immediate evidence as to who was involved. Damnit, he'd probably snitched again on accident. Juice took a deep breath and started to pace again. As much as he tried not to he couldn't help but concentrate on just how friendless he was right now. If they found out that Pearson was shaking him down with a visual check, they'd kill him. If Tully was gone, they'd kill him. Or let the MC do it.

He didn't know how long it was but a clearing throat brought him out of his dark thoughts. Mickey was standing in front of his cell. The normal prison shirt was slung over one arm, and he was just in a white t-shirt beneath. Juice didn't think about what he was hiding by not wearing the identifying top. (It was blood, Tully's blood. Too much.) He couldn't think about it. Mickey watched him for a moment before he spoke. “My sainted mother, she had a cur dog. Pit. Loyal to her, hated being cooped up in a pen when she had to be out. Broke down the fences without any thought he was so game.” Mickey paused, then explained because clearly Juice had no idea what that meant. “Game. Fighter. He would hold on to any dog or hog until it died even at the cost of his own life. Not that that ever happened, he never lost a fight and neither did his kids.” Mickey kept looking. “Dumb as a box of hammers, mind, but he had such heart, such spirit.” Now a smirk. “Tully's in the clinic, Pitbull. They said he'll be fine with stitches and a day or three for antibiotics. He's mostly worried about his ink.” _And you_ , his eyes said.

With that Mickey walked away back towards his own cell leaving all the adrenaline to finally drain out of Juice. He had to sit again, and he managed to get to the tiny desk before his legs gave. Tully would be alright. And he seemed to have gained real respect from the Brotherhood. As much as he might get anyway being who he was. He'd earned a nickname apparently.Juice had to keep from snickering because it was going to turn into mad laughter. He'd beaten a man severely, maybe even killed him, for Tully. What that meant, he didn't honestly know. Juice's whole body ached now and he had to rise.

The lockdown lasted all day, up until lights out. If it was officially beyond it didn't matter to the convicts. Juice distracted himself by continuing to read his computer book. Alternating it with the poetry book when he got too bogged down in anxiety to focus. He was even proud of himself for getting down some of the food once they passed the trays out for lunch and dinner. The lights shut off in the middle of his favorite poem, of course, and Juice had to get changed into his pajamas in the dark. Slowly, still sore. He'd been dreading this part. Even when Tully stayed in his own bed his presence above him was a comfort. Juice was resigned to a long sleepless night and wondered if Tully squirreled away anything to help out with sleep. “You alright, Pit?” Nuke, from his cell, barely loud enough to get across the hallway. It was an unspoken agreement that you could talk, just no yelling or disturbing others. “You've been standing there staring at your bed.”

Nuke must have excellent night vision. “Yeah, 'm fine.” That nickname made him smirk a bit, and then he sat down on his bed. That was better. “Hey Nuke?” Juice was curious.

“Mm?”

“Why d'you think Daniel did it?”

A long period of silence, long enough that Juice thought Nuke didn't hear him. “The hole can drive a man crazy.” More silence. “And Danny, man. The fourteen means a lot to him. Sure he wasn't happy Tully's got a thing for you...honestly he never liked that Tully was the boss _and_ a fag.”

Juice's heart fluttered hearing that Tully had a real enough connection that the other men were noticing it wasn't just about sex. They'd have to be a little less obvious about it in the future but it was good news. “How'd he know, in the hole...? And...fourteen?”

“Rumors get everywhere in this place, Pitty. Even there.” Nuke took on a bit of an educational tone, though it was more like one you'd use for a little kid. “'We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.' So if you see a number 14 on a guy's skin, he's White Power. Same with 88. HH, Heil Hitler.”

Honestly Nuke's enthusiasm for telling Juice all about it was kind of funny. On the other hand, “You ain't gotta tell me any of this.” Juice didn't want any secrets.

“Nah, shit's on Discovery Channel and the internet. Got a lot of chatty personalities in the AB.” Nuke grumped about it. “You don't got any clovers on you?” Now suspicion.

“Nope. SAMBEL guys do, the Irish crew.” Juice had considered getting one with one of those guys when he was in Belfast, but he'd not gotten a chance. It was a good thing, now. One fewer Reaper to have to cover up. “Three leaf clover, where our A is.” It wasn't _ours_ anymore, Juice had to remind himself. “Their A.” An audible correction, in case anyone with Sons ties was listening in. Better safe than sorry.

“Long as it's a three leaf. Ours is the four leaf.” Nuke now sounded pretty proud of it. He was probably good at making them, like Happy was at the Reaper. “Anyway. It was probably jus' too much and when he got out he had to make a statement. Or just just wanted to be boss.” Juice heard the shrug even if he couldn't see it. “Wonder where he got the piece, though.”

Juice laid back into the bed. “Couldn't tell what it was.” He'd been too busy trying to kill Daniel and not get stabbed himself. Honestly it was a shock that he didn't get hurt.

“Eh, we'll figure it out later and give the fucks who gave it to him a boot party.” Nuke laughed, and was immediately shushed by the other inmates. “Sorry.” Nuke groaned, clearly stretching. “Ain't gonna be tonight. Get some sleep, Pitty. Tully'll have our hides if you don't.”

“Thanks.” Juice responded quietly though there were only snores in response. He laid on his back for a while, jealous of Nuke's ability to simply fall asleep in an instant. Tig had the magic too, though he blamed it on being in the Marines. Juice on the other hand would stay awake for hours no matter where he was or how exhausted. It was better some times than others; as of late Tully had lulled him to sleep before climbing into his own bunk.

Juice got up again, and carefully pulled Tully's pillow down from above him. The other con never hid anything in it or under it, and he'd done the same thing once or twice spending the night on the bottom bunk. Juice laid back down, curling up onto one side and burying his face into the amazingly soft fabric. It smelled like him, and it was soothing. So much so Juice rapidly fell asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Banging against the cell door woke him up suddenly. “Pitbull! Get up, you're comin' to breakfast.” Mickey was standing there once again, with Nuke doing the talking. And banging.

Juice rolled over; no doubt they'd already seen him drooling into Tully's pillow so he didn't bother to hide it. He was not a morning person as it was and their wake up sucked. The look that he didn't want to go was apparently evident in his eyes because Mickey piped up. “C'mon, mutt.” His orders were clear now; he had to run the AB on behalf of Tully _and_ take care of Juice. Mickey didn't look particularly happy about this, but he didn't look that happy about much.

“A'right, a'right. Quit it Nuke, I'm up.” Juice did get up, and moved to the toilet while pulling off his shirt. A wolf-whistle brought the fact they were still standing there to his still-asleep brain. “Fugoff.” The men both laughed, but did leave Juice in peace. A fact that took a moment for him to recognize. He'd been rude, they'd left him alone. Juice _had_ gained respect from the other cons and it was a very odd feeling. He was glad, though, feeling a little less anxious about being forced out into general population.

Unless they were just lulling him into a false sense of security. Juice shook his head as he set Tully's pillow back up onto his bunk and finished throwing on his clothes. Couldn't think like that; fear would emanate from him and make him a target. The cell door opened up, and once again Nuke and Mickey were waiting for him. “So, Pitty I know we were going to have the blastover party but I gotta reschedule.” Juice fell in line in front of Nuke, who talked to the back of his head, next to Mickey. “Tully wanted to watch.”

Juice looked at him over his shoulder. Honestly he didn't know that he was going to get tattooed today, so it hadn't been a great loss that he couldn't. Tully being there, that meant a lot to the young man. “'S alright. Can't disappoint the boss.” They entered the chow hall and for one moment the place paused to look at them. Juice spotted several curious glances his way, and the ones that were closest had a strange feeling about them. It was awe, and Juice was so unused to it Nuke had to shove him along because he was staring back. “What's the deal...?”

“You beat down AB's number four.” Mickey said quietly. “After he went for number three, and you left him in a coma.” They advanced. “Dumb as a box of hammers, but game as any living creature.” Mickey snickered with a head-shake, and Juice understood. To everyone else, without thought to his own safety he'd doled out prison justice for an extremely powerful shot-caller. Juice hadn't been defending someone he cared deeply for, he was just taking care of business. He showed that heart, the confidence in what he was doing that other criminals respected. Jax had it naturally, apparently Juice just needed it pulled out of him. Finally they made it through the line and to their table. Juice hesitated a moment, unsure of where to sit but Mickey gestured to his usual seat. He himself was sitting at Tully's, though everyone there knew it was going to be temporary.

“New fish.” One of the men said through a mouthful of oatmeal. No further mentions of Tully, or Daniel, out here where it was so public. It was private business, after all. Brotherhood business. And Juice's. “Got some good looking Aryans over there.”

“No recruiting this time.” Mickey declared, though he was scanning the new inmates. “Lots of spics and porch monkeys too.” He went back to his breakfast.

Juice himself looked up from his own food, and had to double take. For one brief, heart-stopping second he could have sworn he saw Happy Lowman in the line of arrivals. But second look showed nothing. Juice slowly went back to the tray, but he didn't feel very hungry anymore.

“We stay out of trouble.” Another declaration from Mickey, to the groans of the other men. To Juice it sounded like a fine plan. Much safer in his cell and he could entertain himself just as well there. “Stay in pairs at minimum.” Really, they didn't know if the incident with Daniel was a one-off, or only the start to some kind of war. “And don't start shit. I goddamned mean it, Thierry.” Juice didn't snicker, like the others. He had the distinct feeling someone was watching him.

“Nuke.” Juice couldn't look himself, it would look paranoid. And, subsequently, weak. “Is some fucker checkin' my ass out?” Code, he hoped they would get it. Play it cool, but see if we're being watched.

Nuke, who had moved to sit beside Mickey glanced up and scanned the room expertly. “Not that I can see.” Juice caught the others looking too, out of the corner of his eye. Not looking solely for his well-being, of course. But his concerns were valid, or at least they saw it that way.

“Just thought I saw a guy.” Juice shook his head, looking back down to his food. “Sorry.” Apologies for wasting their time. He might have a nickname but he was still a bitch. Juice didn't want to upset the rest of the Brotherhood; wear out his welcome before Tully got back and could smooth over any objections to his continued presence among them.

“Better safe than, Pit.” Mickey responded, looking at the other men who were nodding as well. “Make sure you've got someone to split with wherever you're going.” It apparently bore repeating.

Nuke grinned and reached over, clapping Juice roughly on the shoulder. “Ooh oh Pitbull's my travel buddy!”

Juice couldn't help but return the grin, and he tried hard not to wince too much at the heavy smack. It was just who Nuke was. He just hoped it didn't extend to his tattooing technique. Hard lines sucked. “I'm jus' probably going to go back to the cell, Nuke.” Juice didn't really have much going for him outside, anyway. He'd probably have a panic attack if he was honest with himself.

“Aww....” The disappointment almost broke Juice's heart. Almost, because it was short-lived. “Thierry's my travel buddy!”

“Walk with me.” Mickey piped up, looking at Juice hard. He had a feeling they were going to have some kind of new heart-to-heart. “Shitloads of work to be done.” Juice nodded and finally it was a natural time that he could look around, while he waited for the others to be finished. He didn't see Happy. It must have been a fluke, a trick of the mind. No one was going to get him, not for the three days it would take Tully to recover. Especially if he stayed in his cell, or in a big group like this. “Ready?” Mickey looked at him, clearly done himself.

“Yeah.” Juice got up, grabbing his tray to put it away. Again he had the feeling that someone was watching him, which he had to dismiss. Mickey wasn't dogging his steps like Tully would but he wasn't going to let someone stab him in the back right here. With another glance around that told him there was no one he knew here Juice finally accepted he'd been seeing things. That this overly-anxious, almost paranoid reaction to Tully's absence meant things about his emotions with Tully. He could explore them later, though.

He and Mickey started their walk back to the cells. Juice kept his head on a swivel though no more than usual, but at the same time he listened for Mickey to start talking again. The man didn't though; just paused briefly when they made it to Juice's cell and then continued onto his own. If Juice considered it, and he did as he sat down at the desk, it was a nice reprieve from everyone's constant chatter and idle noise making. It was all for show, really. Proof that they were meaningful in this place where they were basically numbers controlled by outside forces. Mickey and Tully didn't need to do that it seemed; they just knew they had meaning and everyone believed it. It was no wonder they got along.

Juice picked up his databases book. Now that the door was locked behind him he knew he was safe here and even without Tully he could let his anxieties from the morning go. Juice threw himself into the book, working the problems on the legal pad beside him. It would have been easier on a computer, obviously, but Juice had a mind for the underlying numbers. They didn't change, or at least not often. Half the time Juice's “hacking” magic was simply guesswork based on how old systems were designed. The rest was knowing how people acted with computers; they wrote their passwords on post-it notes or, on one hilarious occasion, gave Juice their password when he called from a burner with enough authority in his voice.

The thought made him snicker, but he pushed himself to not dwell on things he'd done in the past. Even positive ones, because they could so quickly become the bad kinds of things he thought about. Obsessed over, really. Juice just couldn't handle that without Papi. He went back to the book and his paper, flipping to the next page. He'd already filled the first one up.

Juice lost four hours filling two more up; not just the problems but notes, terms to look up, directions he could go. It seemed like progress in his life, independence from the MC. “Earth to Pitbull, come in Pitbull.” Juice jumped, looking up to Nuke. “You ain't moved since breakfast, egghead.” A flick of his gaze to Juice's tattoos. “ _Easter_ egghead.” He cackled, clearly pleased with himself. “Lunchtime.” Almost on cue, the cell door swung open, giving Juice no choice but to get up.

They only managed a few steps away from Juice's cell when Nuke grabbed at his left arm, lifting it to eyeball the Reaper there. Juice's heart rate shot up with the sudden movement, and it only calmed down when he realized what Nuke was doing. “Jesus, warn a guy.” It wasn't as awkward as he thought to keep up with Nuke; Juice suspected he was just used to Tully keeping him close and having to work around that leggy gait.

“Mm. This'll be pretty easy. Not pretty, but easy. Might have to...” Nuke let him go as he trailed off, and swung around to his other side. This time Juice was ready and held up the other arm. “These...hm. Lots of time, mostly. Though...” Nuke traced his fingers in a bit of a pattern. “Could make it cool. Match your head around the blackouts. Or just black out your whole arm, that's popular right now.” Juice was honestly interested in this side of Nuke. It wasn't the obviously wasn't the AB muscle he portrayed. “Glad I have more time to think about it.” Nuke let him go as they entered the cafeteria again. “Got anymore, Pitbull?”

Juice didn't really want to talk about them in public, but he didn't seem to have much of a choice. “Two. Four, I guess, on my chest. Black and grey, like everything else.” Juice had gotten the skulls after Darvany and out of all the pieces he had, he was really most attached to them. “Maybe so big?” He held up his hand before picking up a tray. “Though really....” Juice trailed off and then shook his head, looking down at the food.

“Eh don't worry about it, kid.” Nuke leaned in, leering a bit with a grin. “I'll take a look-see later.” Juice was instantly reminded that these men weren't really his friends. They put up with his presence because he was Tully's punk. If they were on the outside, they might even make him bite the curb.

“Knock it off, Nuke.” Mickey spoke from behind the bigger man.

“Mickeyyy,” Nuke actually whined before he patted Juice on the back. “I was just kiddin'. You think I'd actually piss the boss off by tryin' anything with _his_ piece of ass?”

“Yes.”

“....Fuck you, Mickey.” Juice wisely kept his mouth shut and his head down at his tray. Grilled cheese, tomato soup, and a slice of what was either carrot cake or banana bread. He hoped for Tully's sake it was the carrot cake. If he even got the same stuff while in the clinic. “Hey, Pit.” Nuke's voice was low, now. “Dude's checking you out at your four. And I _was_ kiddin', you know that right?”

Juice wasn't entirely sure he believed Nuke, knowing how possessive Tully had gotten before. But for the sake of keeping the peace he nodded. More concerning was what Nuke said before. Juice flicked his gaze upwards, looking around the cafeteria in the direction the other con told him. He saw no one he recognized immediately, and he was fairly certain he'd know Happy in an instant from any angle. “Sure?” He sat in his regular place, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

“Shit, he's gone now.” Nuke growled. “I was sure.” They all started in on their lunch, silent for a while. “Pit I ain't gonna let you be skinnyfat, you're comin' with us after this. Just for a lap or four.”

Subtle, really. On the other hand he'd been sitting around too much, even with all the nighttime cardio he got. “Weights?” He much preferred them to running, anyway. And he could show Nuke the skulls on his chest. Juice was thinking he could get away with keeping them and just blacking out the distinctive Sons font, but he wanted to consult with the expert. It would have been smarter, maybe, to see if he could have a chat with Chibs about it and get an official answer. It also could have put him into danger and Juice wasn't quite ready to talk to his former brothers. Even if it was Chibs and they'd been something more once. More mental minefields to avoid, and Juice made himself focus on Nuke again.

Nuke shook his head and flicked his gaze briefly over to a table of Hispanics. “Mafia's got the good benches.” It was clear he had a few things to say about them, but he kept his mouth shut. No causing trouble, after all. “Four around the track's a mile.”

Clearly Juice wasn't getting out of this, so he nodded. Nuke kept talking. “And don't worry about keeping up with us, Pitty. We'll go slow for your short ass.” Laughter around the table and Juice couldn't keep back the indignant huff. He wasn't the smallest man there; well yes he was but he wasn't a wilting flower. Had to prove it, that he could stand with them.

He smirked and leaned back a bit. “Buncha old fucks 'round this table.” His tongue was going to get him into trouble, now. “Bet I could do circles.” Juice shrugged, channeling a self that was younger, brash and abrasive. The self that got the head tattoos to look intimidating. He didn't really feel it but he had to try. Fake it til he made it and hopefully he wouldn't get beaten up in the meantime. “Though you know I am Puerto Rican, we're more swimmers than runners or jumpers. So maybe you'll be able to keep up with me.”

More laughter as he used the punchline for the old racist joke. “Alright, Pitty. Let's go then.” Nuke stood, almost dragging the other man with him. The others followed and Juice could already hear them placing bets. Juice hadn't done any real running in a while, and when they exited the prison the heat made him reconsider the folly of what was turning out to be a proper race.

In the end Juice was covered in sweat and leaning heavily on the wall nearest the door as he panted. Nuke was grinning triumphantly down at him, though he was breathing heavily as well. It had been very, very close. “So what was that again?”

Juice was too tired to retort. “A'right, you aren't...old...or anything...Christ.” He looked up.

“All I wanted to hear.” Nuke's smugness made Juice roll his eyes, but only Mickey caught it and there was a snicker from the other man. “Don't worry, Pitbull. Like I said I _personally_ will make sure you don't get skinnyfat here. Or regular fat.”

“You can discuss the training regimen later, gentlemen.” Pearson had somehow sneaked up behind them. “Hit the showers, please.” A gesture from her and for a moment Juice wondered if the Brotherhood was going to rebel against her. The look on their faces certainly implied it, for a moment. Then Mickey simply nodded and jerked his head at the rest towards the door she was pointing at. “Thank you.”

The showers always made Juice nervous in prison. Even when he had the Sons with him, he never felt quite safe. It was compounded by the fact that you had to keep your back to the entrance, facing the wall otherwise you might be accused of staring at another guy's junk. The hot water and soap after that rough run, and the previous day's fight did feel nice on his skin. Juice hadn't actually felt anything but soreness from that but he could now actually check himself. Just bumps and bruises, nothing that wouldn't fade away given time. Somehow he survived everything that had ever been thrown at him, and Juice marveled at it while the water pounded down on his head. He couldn't pretend to have done it alone, though. “Hey, Juicey!”

He startled; no one in the Brotherhood called him that except for Tully. And worse, he knew it was none of them. The growl had been Happy's, he was here and Juice wasn't safe in the slightest. He whipped around, looking wildly around at the other men in the shower. Hap wasn't there, just a bunch of confused other cons. At least he hadn't been hearing things. “If you gotta boyfriend you ain't tell us about, Pitty...” Nuke's words were jovial, but his tone wasn't. Again, Juice was reminded that these men weren't who they said they were. Given the chance they'd tear him apart. It was an _American History X_ moment come to life.

Juice shook his head. “S-some smartass, I think.” The water shut off for all of them, conveniently. “Not a big deal.” Juice knew he sounded braver than he was right at that moment. He took the towel he was handed and wrapped it around his waist. “Really.” Juice gave him the half-smile that he usually used when trying to convince someone that everything was fine. “Ain't worth your guys' energies.” They all lined up at the mirrors then, issued a razor and shaving foam. It was never enough for Juice to do anything but get his face cleaned up. He was adamantly not thinking about Happy. If he did, he might curl up fetal right here and that had to wait until after showering.

No one made any more conversation with him, though they made plenty with each other. Back to square one. Juice didn't let it show on his face but for a few short hours he'd had a family again and the loss of it ached. He forced himself to splash his face clean and look at the tattoos on his chest. _Son._ What he had been. _Shine._ What he wanted to be. _Sunshine._ What he couldn't see even if he lived in gorgeous California because he was dark, always dark on the inside. He'd done so many terrible things in his life--

“Let's go, mutt.” Mickey again. “'Less you wanna walk back naked.” Juice nodded and followed them again numbly, grabbing his clean clothes from the cubby he'd stashed them in on arrival. Nothing had been fucked with, like he expected them to be. Sounds kept swirling around him as he dressed and he felt like he was watching a movie of himself as he walked with the others back down to their cells.

A rough clap around his shoulder startled him and he jumped as Nuke pulled him in close. “Chill, Pit. You know you're cool with us, right?” Juice looked up at him. That physical touch was more than Nuke had given him before, and it was exactly what Tully did but this made his skin crawl. A voice in his head told him he didn't deserve it, and that's why it was so unplesant. “Man, you're wound tight. Skip dinner and jerk off if you gotta, we ain't gonna be offended. Least I won't.”

Juice decided he was going to skip dinner, but not for that reason. He was likely going to quietly freak out while they were gone. It wasn't long that he had to hold it together. “Maybe I will.” Juice's voice was too soft. “Though I ain't giving you a free show.” That was better, and Nuke's laughter told Juice that he'd bought it.

“Aw, shit I tried.” The big man clapped his other hand on Juice's chest. “Gave me enough of one earlier. I ain't gettin' rid of those skulls, they look cool. The boxes are boring as shit though. And lemme guess, totally trademarked?” The group of them stopped at each man's cell to let him in, including Juice though it was just him, Nuke, and Mickey left by that point. “I'll make them cool too.” Nuke pondered as Juice stepped in and the door shut behind him. Finally alone again. Or he would when Nuke and Mickey left. “Juice.” The younger man had to look at him, the tone in his voice and calling him by his actual name was odd. It was the tone that had told Pearson that something was wrong the day prior. Worried. “Don't do anything retarded, alright?” A pause. “Known Tully a long time. He's different with you. In a good way.” Nuke glanced at Mickey, who gave one nod when Juice made eye contact with him. “See you at breakfast, Pitbull.” The pair walked off.

He had to sit, again, and this time before he did so he grabbed the book of poems. Only one more full day and Papi could read them to him again. Tully, who was better with him. As a shot-caller? Juice assumed that's what they meant, but if he were honest Juice figured he was a liability for Tully. A distraction. As a person? That was more believable, but in his experience becoming more human meant you couldn't be an outlaw. Juice rubbed his chest, feeling the minutely-raised lines of the skulls. That was the crux of this ink, really. How conflicted he was about who he was. Juice's mind was only quiet about it when he had his Papi around. It was easy then, to know. He was the baby boy. He had a place, someone to protect him.

Juice rolled onto his side to face the wall, opening the book to his favorite poem. He could imagine Tully reading it to him, like he had one of those lonely nights when Juice was still in protected housing. That bass voice was very soothing, cutting through all the static in his head before the coke even did anything. Even now as he fantasized about it Juice felt himself relaxing, unwinding like Nuke had suggested. He knew he was so incredibly fucked if even the thought of Tully's voice was causing him such calm. Really, Juice should fix that. He couldn't be so reliant on his Tully.

For the moment, though, he didn't have to fight it. Juice could let himself be okay with the idea that he was. That he needed the other man for his own ability to function, let alone happiness. He hadn't been so jumpy when Papi was around, didn't think in circles in his head like he was now. Juice got up again and pulled Tully's pillow back down, using his own to prop up the poetry book. It was better now; not perfect but better and Juice could concentrate on the poems.

He read right through dinner, and Juice was so into the works and words of love that he barely noticed Nuke checking in on him beforehand. And then after as they were coming back. Juice did remember to get up and change before lights-out this time, so he didn't have to do so in the dark. And when the lights did shut off the young man just listened to the sounds of the prison, snuggling his Papi's pillow. He'd clean the place the next day, so that Tully could come back to a nice looking cell. Juice didn't know when he dropped off, just that he did it to thinking about Tully being pleased _,_ and giving him a good cuddle when he got back.

The next day went similarly to the first. Dragged out for breakfast, left alone after to study. Dragged out again for lunch and being outside where Juice finally got his hands on some weights. He put in a good effort that Nuke praised even if he immediately began to plan how to increase the numbers he was lifting. They really did seem to be cool with him, and it made Juice have to wonder just how much of his own observations of their behavior were simply wrong. Or at least filtered through a negative lens. Maybe they weren't family, or would ever be but friends? They seemed to be okay with that idea.

No showers, for which Juice was glad though he dried off some in his cell. He'd shower tomorrow, before Tully came back. The idea made him shiver but he could power through it for Papi. Once again he was left alone until dinner. Juice used it to his advantage, cleaning up a bit. Not that he'd really gotten the place dirty but Papi had a certain order to things. Again, like the day before Nuke checked in on him before dinner.

This time he went with. The first two meals had been safe, after all and Juice knew that the more outgoing he tried to be, the easier his sentence would be. While you ultimately did your time by yourself, having friends made it go just that much easier.

Dinner too went smooth; the feeling he was being watched had disappeared and the food was actually edible. Juice walked with the group back to their cells, spending the rest of the evening once again studying.

Juice was infused with a surprising amount of happiness when he woke the next morning and practically bounced out of bed. “Tully should be back, right?” He didn't even try to play it cool as he leaned against the cell door, looking towards Mickey's.

The other man was still in the process of waking up and Juice had to bite back a giggle at the rude gesture Mickey gave him from his bunk. “My guy says sometime after lunch.” Mickey growled as he got up to pee. “Now shut th' fuck up. Do some squats or somethin'.” He trailed off though Juice heard the muttered “Fuckin' spank your ass, goddamn spic housewife.”

Oops. It had been early and now that Juice thought about it Nuke had always done the talking before breakfast. Mickey must have been less of a morning person than even Juice was. “Sorry, Mickey.” Again he was given the birdie in response and Juice decided not to push the issue. Squats were an excellent idea, and he could combine them with a bit of studying. Juice smirked as he turned back to the desk, flipping through the computer book for exercises he could do while exercising. He doubted Papi was going to let him study later on, as long as he was up for it.

Juice got a few reps in and some problems solved while the rest of the prison wound up. Honestly he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been excited for something but here he was, stoked that Tully was getting out of the clinic. It took far too long but finally they let everyone out for breakfast, and Juice almost bounded out of the cell. “You wanna race again, Pit?” Nuke laughed. “Or should I not tucker you out before the boss gets back?” The rest of the group snickered; normally they didn't make commentary on Juice's status as a punk but he knew it wasn't actually malicious. If he thought about it he was in an enviable position; he could show that joy and relief that they really couldn't at having their boss back to run things. Of course Juice toned it down before the entered the cafeteria, but it was difficult. He could feel the energy of the men around him and combined with his own it made him want to keep bouncing off the walls.

As usual breakfast was crap and it brought him down from his excitement. “French toast. How the fuck do you screw up french toast?” Juice poked it with a fork looking at Nuke.

“Welcome to Stockton, Pitbull.” Nuke was wolfing his down regardless of the taste.

Juice was going to have to see if he could access some of his funds on the outside. He knew he still had friends there who could help him out, he just had to find them. Commissary generally had okay between-meal snacks. It was prepackaged stuff, anyway. Juice ate around the french toast as he considered. He realized he was being stared at again, though this time it was by one of the other men at his table. “I knew a Son, once.”

Thierry was speaking to him. Juice tried not to stiffen, but it didn't really work. “Yeah?”

“In Chino.” The other man had a bit of a lilt to him. An accent that Juice couldn't place. “Good man, was gonna go straight after 'e did 'is five.” A frown from the other man. “'ad two kids and a wife.”

 _Opie._ Juice frowned too, reaching to sip at his milk. “Opie Winston.” Thinking about it, that was when Jax really started to go off the rails. His murder. When Chibs returned from that stint he and Juice spent the night together despite having not been lovers for a while. Chibs had needed to affirm that he was alive. “Buncha....niggers...” The word didn't feel right but it worked in this situation. “Buncha them killed him.” He didn't elaborate, just stopped even picking at his food. Tully was coming back, he had to remember that. Bring back the pleasure he felt from the idea.

“Désolé, mon ami. Sorry.” Thierry paused. “'e was good. We talked about riding. Being in clubs.”

“Oh yeah?” Juice looked over at him. “You were in?” 

“In Québec and Montréal. Briefly, anyway. Was a...prospect? Is that what it is in English?” Thierry laughed a bit. “The bombings turned me away and I moved here to escape that life.”

Juice shook his head. “You picked the wrong state, brother. Sons own California highways.” No doubt Opie had told him the same thing, and the nod told him as much. Juice hadn't thought that he would find someone here at his table that would understand the outlaw MC life. Some of it, anyway. You couldn't get much information if you were just a prospect, and some of it had to be different but some things were just international. “Good for you getting out.”

His mouth spoke before his brain engaged, and he caught himself short. It wasn't inherently offensive to anyone, but at the same time it implied that the choice to leave, to not be part of it was better than the alternative. The choice that he had made was the inferior one. Juice barely heard Thierry speak again he was so shocked at himself. Did it only take two weeks to be able to throw out years of his life like that? Years that had mostly been good to him, good for him? Juice felt sick. He had to get up and think.

Juice stood swiftly and deposited his tray. It took him a good minute to realize that once again Mickey was dogging his steps. No moving around alone, and that counted for Juice too. The pair was halfway to Juice's cell when he had to swear. “Shit....I gotta tell 'im sor--” For bailing, for being rude as fuck.

Mickey passed him. “Froggy doesn't care.” He stopped at the cell. “You looked like shit just then.” Juice went inside, turning to look at Mickey. “Get your shit together. Tully'll be back in a few hours.” Then Mickey walked away and honestly Juice had to admire just how Mickey knew to say and do the right things. He wondered what had been keeping him from being Tully's second in command instead of Daniel, but Juice wasn't going to make any serious speculation. Instead he decided to take his mind off of  the things that were making him anxious. Study instead, and clean. Find time to get to the shower. The things he'd planned last night instead of getting caught up in his own head, chasing detailed nothing. 

Time ticked by. Slowly, too slowly compared to yesterday the morning went along. Soon Juice was bored of studying, he'd cleaned the cell even making both of their beds, and he couldn't shower until they let everyone else do so. The young man was almost glad for lunch to be soon.

“Ortiz.” Juice had been about to start doing bodyweight lifting exercises when a guard's tone made him jump. He turned, looking at Keifer. “C'mon, let's go.” Juice didn't hide the grin; often Tully used this particular man and he figured that he was being taken to his Papi sooner. Keifer just rolled his eyes as Juice jumped up, submitting to the usual procedure. Handcuffs and a waist chain that the guard could hold onto. Juice caught Mickey's eye, checking in so that the other man knew who he was with. Roughly Keifer pulled him along and Juice put on the appropriately humble and resentful look. You weren't supposed to enjoy being hauled around by a guard. It made people suspicious. But Juice was giddy. Of all the people around Tully wanted to see him first. 

Juice was so pleased he didn't notice at first that they'd turned down the wrong hallway. This was towards the machining shops and storage, where he'd murdered Lin. “H-hey, I don' need the scenic route...” Juice tried joking, looking around to see what was going on. His mind screamed though, it knew even if he didn't want to accept it. Couldn't fight it as Keifer pushed him along until they stopped in front of a new door. The guard unlocked it, opened it, and shoved him in before following just enough to undo the cuffs and chains.

“Sorry, money's too good.” Kiefer stepped back, looking into the darkness that Juice was making himself adjust to as quickly as he could. His heartrate had rocketed skyward and his limbs both tingled and felt leaden at the same time. “All yours.” 

“Hello, Juicey.” Happy Lowman came off the wall he was leaning against, and tossed away his ubiquitous toothpick. “Nice to see you again.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello, Juicey. Nice to see you again.” Happy had been here the entire time, and now he was stuck in a box with him. One of the Sons' best assassins, and Juice was being stared down by him. 

The young man backed up, heart pounding. He knew what this meant. They'd lied to Tully and Juice was meeting Mr. Mayhem. Of course Happy followed, slowly. The predator that he was, he was smiling at Juice's terror. A tiger, playing with its food before he devoured it. “Not really, you fuckin' coward rat.” His eyes raked over Juice's body, settling on the ink. “We told you to get rid of it.”

Juice turned, still keeping his eyes on Happy and trying to see if he had a weapon. Juice wasn't sure; Hap could go either way and with pleasure. He raised his hands up, cursing the fact that they were shaking minutely. “I-I got timelines, Hap. Tully w-wanted to watch.” He smiled. Fear-grinned, more accurately. “They're c-comin' off I promise. I just ain't gonna piss off Tu-Tully any more than the Sons.” Stars exploded in his vision as Happy launched himself forward slamming his fist into Juice's face. It made the man yelp, and stagger back but he didn't go down.

“Your _existence_ pisses off the Sons. Faggot.” Happy was going to take this very, very slow. Of course he would. Juice shook his head trying to clear it. “Tully's too. It's a pity his man didn't actually do it right.” 

Another shake of his head, this time in denial even as the pieces fit together in his mind. The shiv had been metal, had been a motorcycle part now that he replayed it in his memory. Daniel worked with the Sons, to teach Tully and the rest of the Brotherhood a lesson about crossing the MC. Get Tully out of the way so they could exact justice on Juice. Obvious, now. Juice hadn't seen it earlier because he hadn't wanted to. Too preoccupied with Tully.

“Fuck Trager, and Chibs too. Soft shits.” Another swing that this time Juice stumbled out of the way for. Pain in his knee now as Happy recovered enough to kick that. Somehow he'd smuggled his biker boots in and that was going to make the damage he dealt Juice that much worse before he finally did what he was here to do. “You're meeting Mr. Mayhem.” 

Perhaps Happy was working alone. It didn't honestly matter right this second. Juice stood straight, testing his footing. His knee hurt but he could fight on it. Because he was going to fight, if only so that his death would warn Tully about what was coming. That the Sons, or maybe just Happy, had every intention on declaring war on the Aryan Brotherhood. His hands came up again, clenched into fists. Juice would give it one try. “Hap, you don't have to.... I ain't gonna tell a damn soul.” Certainly he'd have a black eye and a bit of a limp but everyone walked into doors on occasion.

“Fuck that.” Happy came in again and this time Juice was ready. For a face hit, not for the semi truck strength of the punch to his gut. He immediately had the wind knocked out of him, and he doubled over gasping for air. Juice yelped again when Happy grabbed his shoulders to forcibly straighten him up, giving him another hit to his face. “Queer. How the _fuck_ did you ever patch in?” 

Juice's head was ringing already, but he swung back at Happy now that he was close enough. Somehow he managed to connect on the man's cheekbone. He immediately followed it with a knee to the groin, because in a life or death situation there was no such thing as not playing dirty.

Happy was just too good at what he did, though, and he shoved Juice while he was off balance before grabbing his shirt and throwing him against the wall. Juice kept the back of his head from bouncing off of it, but it didn't matter because Hap was on him, pressing his forearm against his throat while he struck Juice a few more times in the gut leaving him gasping for air once more. There was a great deal of pain in his abdomen and he was tasting bile and blood in his throat. If he survived this, Juice expected to be in the hospital for a long time. Especially after Happy knocked his head around with another couple of blows.

“You know what...” The man pulled away and Juice only stayed upright because he was leaning against the wall. It was only brief, he seized Juice and flipped him around so that now he was facing the wall. “The Sons _own_ your ass, not some fairy hillbilly who dresses up in a sheet.” Happy started fiddling with his belt with one hand, the other pressing between his shoulder blades to hold him down. 

No. Juice couldn't let that happen. Happy couldn't have him that way. He was Tully's, Tully's to fuck and already Juice was having brief flashes of what happened in the clinic with the Chinese. Juice jerked his head back, aiming for Happy's face as he struggled to get his arms beneath him so he could throw the stronger man off.

Thrusting his head forward only gave Happy room to grab the back of it and slam it into the wall with a sick crunch and agony in his face. Blood immediately poured down and Juice's fight attempt was aborted with the dizziness the movement caused. He couldn't stop Happy from yanking his pants down; of course Juice hadn't worn underwear in preparation for seeing Tully. Not that it would have stopped Happy. “It's. Ours.” Happy snarled in his ear as he searched with his dick for Juice's hole.

“'S no--” Juice was cut off with a yowl as Happy found it, entering him dry and rough. The pain was greater than it had ever been, and he was ill with it. Happy crowded him, pushing him tight against the wall and like he'd done so often before Juice simply went away in his head. Away from the pain physical and mental. He didn't think that he had sat next to this man that was brutalizing him, called him brother. Supported his efforts and with him supported their club. His family. Dully Juice felt another slap on the side of his head, but it didn't matter either. This part was to be endured, and then they'd go back to properly fighting. Likely Happy would kill him, but Juice could try to get a few more licks in of his own.

He thought of Tully. Sweet, gentle Tully who yes had hurt him like this but had never actually hurt him. Who read him love poems and hugged him and by god seemed to believe in him even when Juice couldn't even believe in himself. Dragged him from hell into, maybe not heaven but a circle of purgatory. He called Tully Papi because he took care of Juice; he wondered if Tully felt taken care of by doing that for him. If he would mourn Juice's passing or if he would just jump straight into burning down the Sons of Anarchy with the might of the Aryan Brotherhood and the street gangs that worked for them. Warfare. That would be mourning enough for Tully, if he thought about it. Juice didn't make a sound while all this rushed through his head. His eyes stung, though, with tears dripping down his bruising cheeks.

Agony blossomed into his face again as his head was shoved against the wall. Apparently Happy was done; he'd clearly been pent up and was quick. It brought Juice back into himself, his body aching and his hole a ring of fire. The young man managed to turn around, but Juice didn't get a chance to stand and assess himself, ready for new blows. Happy yanked on him again, kneeing his groin and now that was pain too. Pain and he couldn't breathe with it.

Juice dropped to his knees, and rolled down onto his side. Instinctively he went into the fetal position, covering his head with his hands and curling his knees to his chest as best he could with his pants still down. Fighting was out of the question, all he could manage was to survive just a little bit longer. His higher mind knew it was futile, this was just animal reaction that couldn't escape the inevitable. Happy stomped on him, and fire exploded in his chest. He knew that pain; cracked ribs. Broken, probably, with the strength of it. “Coward.” Another stomp. “Rat.” This time a kick to his back, and then another. “Bitch.”

Juice yelped as Happy jumped on him again, hitting him in the head to try and get him to uncurl. “You are never-- urgh!” The weight was suddenly gone, and light was flooding his vision from the open door. He could hear roaring though he didn't know if it was mostly in his head or mostly out of it. He just knew relief equaled the amount of pain that he was in.

The roaring was external, he finally figured out, as he heard Happy thoroughly bounce against the wall. “ _Hold him, Nuke._ ” Juice opened his eyes as wide as they could having started to swell shut with two black eyes. Tully was standing there in the doorway that Keifer had shoved him in, staring hard at his muscle as he gave Happy a work-over. The tone of his voice was terrifying; it was so full of rage but so completely even at the same time. This was Tully, shot-caller for the AB who had likely killed more people than Juice could even dream about knowing. The man that you feared when going into Stockton. “Help him.” Mickey briefly blocked the light as he passed Tully. He didn't go to Juice, but instead to Nuke where the pair of them finally got Happy pinned by his arms against the wall.

Juice hurt but the appearance of his Papi made him want to get up. Carefully he reached down to get his pants back up over his ass. The movement was too slow, but he managed it without too much sound escaping. He needed a break, and he took it for just a second before he made the attempt to rise. “No, beautiful.” Tully had moved and was kneeling beside him. “You're alright. Don't hurt yourself more.” Sparks flew against Juice's skin as Tully stroked his cheek, pain and happiness mixed. “Stay there, Pearson's giving us a few minutes.” The good cop? Juice didn't think about it, only whimpered when Tully straightened again.

Tully couldn't have heard him because he had turned to Happy. Juice moved just barely enough to be able to see the look on his former brother's face, which had been a little more roughed up from Nuke's anger. Happy actually looked stunned by Tully's reaction though it disappeared as Tully approached him. “Fuck you.” He hissed, and struggled.

“Remind me to call on Mr. Telford.” Tully had his hands up, tapping his chin. “He's got housecleanin' to do.” That accent. Tully used it when he was being his most intimidating. “Need to find out if he has any more rogue animals in his kennel.” He sighed deeply. “Or if we just have to exterminate the whole lot. Pity, really. I liked their business.” Tully didn't wind up, just nailed Happy in the face. With his left hand, Juice noted. His right was protecting one side; the stitches there must be deeper. 

“We'll kill you.” Happy threatened, spitting at Tully as he looked up at the taller man. “You should have died.” 

Tully shook his head again. “Daniel should have done better.” A gesture, and Nuke took a swing this time while still holding Happy. It made Juice's heart sink to hear that everyone was in on it like he'd thought. Chibs and Tig might have tried to stop them but clearly they weren't successful. A spark, though, that thrummed in time with the next strike. This wasn't cold revenge, on Tully's part. It was anger, it was a wolf protecting its mate and territory. Juice had power here, if he could get up and use it. Maybe stop a war. More dull thuds spurred him on.

He took a breath in, and that was harder than it had been, and got to his hands and knees with a groan. The hitting stopped “T-Tully.” He looked as best he could still to his Papi. Tully turned to him, a brief frown that Juice had disobeyed him. They'd deal with it later. “D-don't...don't kill...” Juice flicked his gaze towards Happy, realizing how pathetic he looked before made himself work through the shrieking torment of his chest and abdomen and back to rise to his knees. The dizziness returned, too and he forced back the urge to vomit. “T-till you talk...to Chibs...” Tully stared at him for a very long moment. Hard and intense. “Please.” Begging, really. Juice was familiar with it. He'd done it enough.

“For yourself, or for the club?” Still cool but intense at the same time. Questioning Juice's motives as he tilted his head. The young man was reminded once again of a predator. A shark, older than Happy's jungle cat. It didn't play, just swallowed you whole. 

Juice wavered with the question. He hadn't expected it and thinking was hard enough. “B-both.” Couldn't lie, not to Papi. He wasn't in the right place to say it was just for him, or for them. Not yet, but if he could turn Tully away from this murder, they might have enough time to manage that.

Tully stared a beat longer at him and then turned back to Happy. “You...should change your name.” He backed up, and without question the men dragged Happy along with them behind. Tully made his way to Juice, standing to his side. Juice leaned briefly on his leg until the world stopped spinning so bad before he straightened. “Lucky. That he was here.” The three stopped, and Happy was looking right at his former brother again. “I'd thank him. I was going to kill you.” Tully produced a metallic shiv; the same one he'd been stabbed with. Juice's heart jumped involuntarily but Tully folded his arms, hiding it again. “Go on.”

Happy, still being held by Mickey and Nuke looked first up at Tully, and then across to Juice. He was silent and still for a while before he spoke. “Faggot snitch, I'm going to cut you open and fuck th-”

It was all he got out before Nuke's meaty fist slammed into the side of his head and he went unconscious. The two brotherhood men dropped him then, face down. “Sorry, boss.” Nuke honestly sounded contrite and when Juice looked up it was because Tully was giving him a nasty look. “Wasn' apologizing.”

Another sigh from Tully. “No matter. Get over here and help. Can't rip my stitches.” He handed Mickey the shiv. “Get rid of it. But give him a reminder....” A smirk. “A frowny face, maybe.” Tully laughed a little, not the good kind of laugh. “Gentle!”

He'd snapped at Nuke as Juice had almost howled with the roughness of his “help.” Juice bit his cheek to quiet himself. Instead he worked on trying to assist, though with all of his injuries it wasn't working great. “Pitty, 's cool.” Nuke carried him out with one arm wrapped around his upper chest, Tully behind. Honestly Juice just wanted to curl up and heal in Tully's arms, but getting away from the scene of an ongoing crime was the priority even in here.

They didn't have to go far, fortunately. Pearson was waiting for them. “I suggest at least one of you hide.” She was quiet, looking at Tully. “The one I find with Ortiz is the one I've gotta throw into the hole.” Juice didn't want either of them to leave him right now, now that he was out of immediate danger. He was starting to crash with all the physical injuries and the mental ones would come up soon. Probably shock, really.

Mickey came up as well, strangely clean and wiping off the shiv when Nuke pulled it out of his hands. Kickstand, Juice knew when he finally got a look at it. Sharpened at one end in a machine shop. Hopefully not the one off of his bike. Nuke was positively cheery when he spoke. “I got Pit now, and I promise I won't stab you when I get out boss.” Nuke moved them both so they were leaning on the wall by Pearson now. “Mmm...sorry brother.” The metal moved and there was a nasty burn of pain on his forearm right across the ink. Blood welled up but it wasn't that deep. “Make sure you wrap that up so no one else takes a swing.” Juice didn't know if it was instructions for him, or Tully, or Pearson. It was just one more note of noise to his body. That Nuke called him brother didn't register. “Beat it, you two.”

Neither left. Tully stepped in, giving Juice a small kiss on the top of his head. It wasn't healing, far from it but Juice felt a little less pain somehow. “Got you.” Very soft into his skin before Tully stepped away to make his way down the hall. Out of sight for what was coming next.

Nuke helped Juice slide down the wall with only a few whimpers coming out of the wounded man. “Put down the weapon, Fleischer.” Metal hit concrete as Nuke did what Pearson ordered him to. As far as everyone was now concerned, Nuke had interrupted a beatdown, violently, and was taking Juice out of the room where it had happened. Pearson's voice swam in and out as he sat on the wall. “Down...on your head...” He was absolutely losing his struggle to remain conscious. “...Least one inmate injured...backup...”

Juice looked towards the hallway where his Papi had gone. He'd had to hide, but Juice still ached for him. This would be a whole lot more tolerable if he had Tully to hold him, keep kissing his head. Noises of more metal banging brought his attention away from that hallway and then suddenly he was moved with an explosion of pain. Juice automatically swung at whoever had held him. “Juice, Juice.” Pearson again, at his head. She'd remembered to use the right name this time. “It's the medics, relax. You're alright.”

The young con couldn't argue with her. He was just too tired and in too much pain. He let them cuff him to the side of the stretcher, standard procedure. Now that he was secured and with a bevy of guards around him Juice couldn't think of a reason not to just let himself drift away.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Tully watched from the machining shop further down he and Mickey had ducked into. It worked out well; he could see what was going on with Nuke and his baby. First Pearson had pulled Nuke away from Juice, cuffing him. She let another officer take him away though, choosing to stay with Juice as he looked around for Tully. The older con's chest ached, wanting to go with but he stayed put. Paramedics came, first hauling out the Sons' man. He was still unconscious, and he had a great big pressure pad placed on his abdomen. “He'll live?”

Mickey nodded. “Stupid tattoos might need a touchup.”

Tully nodded, and went back to watching. Now they were loading Juice up, or trying to. He'd taken a swing at them. Good boy, fighting. Tully's blood had run cold seeing the extent of the damage in the light of the door. Both eyes blackened, he'd winced when Tully touched his cheek. He couldn't imagine what was below the skin; the sounds that Juice had made when he moved went straight to Tully's brain and wedged itself there. And still, he'd tried, successfully, to dissuade Tully from simply cutting the other man's throat. At least he'd listen to the MC's president. He might still kill Happy, but for Juice he'd hold off. Later Tully would consider the implications of it, but now they were bringing his baby by. He was small, but on the stretcher he looked even smaller, surrounded by medics and guards. Out of the corner of his eye Tully saw Mickey ducking; he knew he should too but he just couldn't. He had to see how Juice was, from the front and in the light.

His baby boy was unconscious, finally, and he wore an oxygen mask. The black eyes were the least of his injuries; Tully could spot darkening bruises all over his abdomen even through his prison garb. Broken nose. Ribs, god knows what internal injuries. Juice had managed so much before he did pass out. That sound came back in his mind and Tully remembered what had caused Juice to make it. The movement, pulling his pants up so Tully wouldn't see. But Tully had.

Perhaps he would murder the other man, balls first. The shot-caller stepped away from the door, turning to lean against the wall beside it. He needed to focus. Breathe, before he did something tremendously stupid. Mickey had his head down, face illuminated by green. A burner; no wonder why he'd shoved Tully in here. “I don't...care what time it is when he arrives...get the Son's man here.” Tully would talk to him at midnight if need be. The quicker he knew about the MC's part in this, the quicker he could begin his own plans. His response. You didn't touch a shot-caller's punk and expect none.

Mickey nodded as he held the phone to his ear. Tully peeked out again. The entourage was gone now, taking Juice to the clinic or worse the hospital. Tully's chest thudded at the idea of Juice being alone on the outside. “Call. Now. This number.” Mickey's voice made him turn. “Busy signal, fuckin' bastard. ” Mickey paused. “Left a voice mail. Who the fuck ignores your calls?”

Tully frowned, and honestly he wanted to hit something. He took another breath again, trying to focus his rage into something productive. Nuke in the hole meant he had to move someone up as his muscle. Perhaps Thierry, give him something to do. The only person he had needed Nuke's ink skills was Juice, so that could be put on hold. “Who did you say took Juice out of his cell?” A guard needed punishment; that other room was their fight club room. Where they pit two inmates together for a human cockfight. The guard in question might live; he'd given Juice his hands, at any rate.

“Kiefer.” The phone rang suddenly, which distracted Tully from actually hitting something. Of course it had to be him. He was too greedy for his own good. Mickey jerked the phone from his ear after answering, and stared at it. “Uh. He's on his way.”

“How---” Then he knew. Juice considered the Sons his family more than any biological one he might have had. It stood to reason one of them would be his emergency contact and Tully knew that he and the Scot had had a thing. If you were in a fight bad enough, they'd call your contact. Telford hadn't been ignoring his previous call, he'd been getting one from the prison. “Get me a room.”

“Funny, fucker said the same thing.” Mickey smirked, which disappeared when he saw the look on Tully's face. “Right.” He glanced up out of the window, slipping the phone into his pocket. He'd take care of it later. “We should go boss.”

Tully came off of the wall. “Find out if Kiefer has family.” He had to send a message, and Tully was not currently in a good mood. Mickey nodded as he glanced out the window, and then poked his head out of the door. He gestured, indicating the coast was clear. Tully followed him, and they moved with purpose away from this area of the prison. It wouldn't do either of them any good to be caught there without a required guard escort.

His side ached, his heart ached, and on top of it all he was hungry. Not for prison slop, but real food. “Commissary.” Tully broke off in that direction, letting Mickey follow or not as he would. Of course the other man did. A pity that prison hooch was a three day affair, and Tully wasn't stupid enough to sample his own supply of coke or H. Sobriety would be better anyway. “Ramen. Two bags peanut M&Ms. ” Tully didn't look at the inmate behind the counter, just growled his order. “...Two plain.” He was going to spoil the hell out of Juice when he got back. Plain was a safe enough bet. The inmate didn't say anything, just handed him the food and candy and took down his prisoner number. Tully stalked away.

“Room's secure and on hold for when the Scot gets here.” Mickey had finally learned what Chibs was, halleluiah. Tully nodded his acknowledgment and started towards his cell, their cell, with his bag of goodies.

He moved with enough purpose and enough “fuck you” vibe that people didn't direct their comments and well-wishes for being back toward him. Mickey got it for him and Tully made note that he needed to bring Mickey more into his plans as the new second. He'd been doing the job, even when Daniel wasn't in the hole. It could wait until the morning, though, Tully decided as he stepped into his cell. It was quiet and clean, empty as a skin shed from a snake. Juice had clearly taken a lot of effort to make it nice for when he got back. For when they could spend time together after being separated for the first time for any significant period since Tully moved him in.

That flare of anger came back. He didn't have Juice, he'd almost lost him in fact and right now there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it. All his power in this place and it meant sweet fuck-all. Before he destroyed everything in the bag he yanked out the ramen and threw it against the wall. It bounced back surprisingly far, so he picked it up again and threw it. That hit the floor this time, but Tully wasn't done. He pulled his pillow down and it too hit the wall with a satisfying _whump._ Everyone was politely ignoring his temper tantrum; no doubt prison rumor had started to spread already. Even if it hadn't, Tully occasionally just broke things. Next in his hand was a lotion bottle. That cracked, splattering the wall.

The man reached for something on the desk when he stopped. It was all currently Juice's, and Tully couldn't bear to destroy that. In fact he felt bad already for starting to total what had been a spotless cell. Tully picked up his pillow and put it back on his hospital-cornered bed, and then wiped down the mess of the lotion as best he could. Then the ramen, the bag of which was indestructible even if the contents inside weren't. No matter. Tully carefully opened one end and grabbed the salty flavoring packet, pouring it in before he shook it up. It was like chips, but not. Tully sat down on Juice's bed, munching on them.

He'd let his mind go blank, so he could order it once again. The Scot to be dealt with first. Then Lowman, if the Scot's answer wasn't good enough. Then Kiefer and hopefully by that point Juice would be back and he could help his baby boy put himself back together. Because after that betrayal, Juice _would_ need help. “Tully.” Pearson brought him out of his thoughts, and Tully just looked at her. He didn't need to ask what she wanted. “You didn't hear this from me, but they took him to the hospital. Just...too much injury.” She said nothing about the other assault. She didn't need to. “McManus is with him.” A long pause. “I'm sorry, Tully.”

He shook his head. “Thank you.” Tully was quiet about it. Pearson was good. She'd stayed out of everyone's pocket and now she'd clearly aligned herself with him. Would make her life rougher; Tully would have to make sure that she had protection.

“I'll let you know when I know more.” Finally she stepped away leaving Tully to his thoughts again. Going back to the things he'd put off earlier. Tully laid down on Juice's bed properly now that he was done eating, and with one good reach he was able to snag the bag with the M&Ms in them. Tully had stopped doing what was prison necessary, killing Lowman, because Juice had asked him to. He made sure Juice ate, and socialized. Made sure that the forbidden ink was taken care of with the least amount of harm. The sex was gentle, not just for getting off. Kept his boy out of his own head, where such darkness was that it was almost frightening even for the hardest of criminals. Juice was better with him than he had been with the club, Chibs perhaps excepted. And he himself was too, if he looked into it. He hadn't killed anyone, with the exception of the Chinese and that had been for Juice. His patience for the outward racism he had to project and watch others project was getting shorter, though that might have come anyway. Tully was pushing 50, after all. With each of these thoughts Tully downed a piece of candy. He wanted the boy to be even better. Happier because that happiness made Tully happy. Was it love? He didn't know; love for him was a nebulous concept more than anything. He knew those poems spoke to him, and when he read them he thought about Juice. And they were most assuredly all about love. So maybe it was.

Tully let out a snort through his nose. Love, for a con like him. What fresh hell was he getting into? If he knew what was good for him he'd cut the boy loose and focus on putting his crew back together. But what sounded good too was retirement. Leaving here, maybe, or even not and spending his time being someone's partner, and not their-- “Boss.”

The man sat up to Mickey's call, and he looked at the guard in front of him. “Your visitor's here, Tully.” Either Chibs had made good time or Tully had been too deep in his head. Probably a mixture of both. Tully submitted to the cuffs after setting his M&Ms down. His visitor...Chibs would know about being in love with Juice. Maybe Tully could ask him. The con cracked a smile then. This was going to be a very interesting meeting.

This time he was here first. Tully sat down after the cuffs came off, crossing his legs while he waited. His mood, which had lightened while thinking of Juice, darkened again and Tully didn't stop it from showing on his face. Either Chibs had no idea that his man had been planning this, or he was in on it. No matter what direction it ended up, it did not bode well for Chibs' ability to run the MC and by extension be an affiliate to the Brotherhood.

The other man entered. His hair was wind-swept and his cheeks were red. Clearly he'd sped the entire way here. “What th' 'ell 'appened?”

Tully frowned, and then gestured for Chibs to take the seat across from him. It was rude for the other man to keep standing; threatening. “I could ask you the same thing.” A beat, where Tully considered a comment about his country of origin and his accent, but he didn't. Instead Tully just stared at him without blinking. He knew the effect he had on people, how his looks disturbed them. And this man, no doubt, had been a good Catholic boy.

Chibs was thinking of his next move, so they were staring each other down for a moment. Tully had no idea if he was thinking of his next lie, or something else. “It's just Hap. No others.”

Interesting. “No others voted...what is it...Mayhem?” Tully laced his fingers together, and now he too was planning out his next words. What he might say to get the maximum amount of information from Chibs.

“Who will make such a....stupid...move.” Chibs put his own hands on the table, again. Tully could imagine him white-knuckling the entire ride here. Even though they told your contact if you lived or died, they never told you any more details than that. “He acted on his own, Tully.” More hard stares. “A stupid--”

Tully rose his hand, keeping the fury out of his voice though it remained in his eyes. “Do not say _mistake._ It was planned.” He shifted just a little, enough to expose the tear in his flesh on his upper chest; the one on his side still hidden. “I found out earlier it was a motorcycle kickstand. Sharp, of course.” Mickey had taken it when Tully was still down in the yard, and hidden it for Tully to identify. Really the man deserved second far sooner than he was being given it. The shot-caller hadn't figured out the significance until Juice's attack by the MC's man. Now he just needed to know how much of a role the MC played.

Chibs blanched. “Shite!” For a moment Tully considered that he was upset that his lies had been discovered. It was only a moment though as Chibs dropped his head into his hands. Defeatedly. “Juice's kickstand was missin' when I picked his bike from impound...” He sighed “Right before Hap got caught. Figured someone nicked it as a souvenir. ” Tully almost felt bad for the Scot; something had gone so wrong under his watch it was likely to do a number on his crew's loyalty to him. Only almost, though. Chibs should have seen it coming. A long moment passed before Chibs looked at him, again. “'ow can we make it right with ye?”

Tully considered asking for Happy as a sacrificial lamb. A way to make right. He'd done his due diligence in talking to Chibs, the way Juice had asked him and now he'd be in the clear for doing what was right. Another option occurred to him as he thought. “Mm. I have a favor.” Tully smiled, not the kind that reached to his eyes. Two birds, one stone. More than, really. Teach the MC to cross him, teach Keifer to betray him. Put another layer between himself and street-level crimes. “Your man wasn't alone...Daniel has been dealt with,” A near invisible wince from Chibs. “But another assistant has not. His name is Keifer. Surname, I assume.” Tully kept up that unsettling smile. “I want you to let him know of my displeasure. Mickey will be contacting you with addresses.” No giving them a choice this time, no taking it to the table. Either Chibs stepped up and ran the club, or he'd lose another valuable member. “I'll trust you can take care of the details sufficiently, and when I hear it's been done I'll consider us....right.”

Backing Chibs into a metaphorical corner might not have been a good idea; men like him were liable to lash out. But Tully was honestly pleased to see Chibs thinking, planning to see how he could keep his men safest from this and do what Tully wanted. He could make Chibs into a fine ally and MC President, if he was so inclined. Be one hell of a project, when he already had one upcoming. For the moment Tully shelved it. Finally he just rumbled. “Aye.”

Tully nodded, and let himself relax a little in his seat. He was still upset, still angry but it wasn't an all consuming rage. For the moment, anyway. It helped that he had some sort of a plan. It was going to be a lot of hurry up and wait now, though. “Were you planning on seeing Juice?” They didn't take severely injured prisoners very far, the hospital would be easy to hit on Chibs' way back home if he understood the routes the other man was taking. Tully wasn't sure which way he wanted it to be; Chibs seeing him or not.

Another silence, and then Chibs nodded. “Plannin' on it.” Tully could read the hesitation in his voice.

“Mm.” Honestly it was good of Chibs; Juice had little safety net on the outside. Someone had to step up. And even if Tully couldn't trust him with his club, he could trust him with Juice. To some extent, anyway. “His guard isn't going to leave you alone; prison policy alas.” Tully smirked. “Ask him if he has _veritas_ or _aequitas_ on his hand. He'll let you in.” McManus was one of Tully's. Even believed in the 14, though he couldn't exactly show it at work.

The look on Chibs face honestly made Tully snicker. “I hate that goddamned movie.” Chibs fairly snarled at him.

“He does too.” Tully let the laughter die down. “But he'll know I've given you the clearance.” Tully paused. “Tell Juice I miss his cute little ass.” Finally Tully got up, letting the chair scrape roughly on the floor as he looked down on Chibs. “I'll know if you don't.” He didn't really need to say it but repetition was always helpful. Especially in the face of a now-annoyed Scot who might not be listening to every word. “Look forward to hearing from you, again.” Tully turned now, and banged twice on the door. He had plans to make.

“You were supposed to protect him.” Chibs spoke low, and it made Tully face him again. His accusing stare was burning into Tully's eyes. Neither could say more because the door opened up, and the guard gestured for Tully to exit.

The fire had returned, and the poor man who was supposed to be escorting him could barely keep up. Tully hadn't thought about it, intentionally. He had promised that Juice would be safe. Promised to Chibs and more importantly promised to Juice. It didn't matter he had no way of knowing his former brother would take Juice's survival so personally, or that Daniel would reach his boiling point enough that he would go for Tully's throat. It didn't matter that he explicitly told Mickey to make sure he kept an eye out for Juice even as he was bleeding heavily in two places, and Nuke had done his part, and even Pearson stuck her neck out. It was Tully that had been ultimately responsible for this. He _should_ have seen it coming, but he didn't.

He barely kept his shit together for the walk back to his cell despite the fact he had a burning need to hit and hurt something. Doing that now meant hole time for himself and he could get no updates at all there; not ones he could trust, anyway. When the gate slammed behind him Tully stood in the middle of his cell, trying to decide what to break. In the end he climbed up to his bunk with Juice's pillow in one hand; Tully would start prison hooch tomorrow because otherwise he was going to drive himself insane. Not a lot of the sour alcohol, just enough to get fucked up for a day or two and bring himself some equilibrium. So Tully could focus on running his crew while Juice was gone. “Tully.” He rolled over, looking down on the voice who was bothering him now.

It was Pearson so he couldn't just throw his own pillow down like he'd planned. Tully didn't want to get up, either, so he didn't. She seemed to accept that. “Internal bleeding, major concussion, four broken ribs, broken nose, sprained knee, black eyes.” Tully clenched his jaw at the news, but of course she wasn't done. “They're keeping him for tonight. They think he might need a splenectomy in the morning or overnight if the internal bleeding gets worse.” She looked down, the first time really that she'd done so when talking to a con. Gathering her strength, instead of showing it at all times. “Evidence of sexual assault.....I'm so sorry, Tully.”

_You were supposed to protect him._ Those words; Tully had seen what Juice had done but really he'd hoped in his heart of hearts that the worst hadn't happened. He knew it had, though. This was just confirmation. He'd failed, and failed his boy hard. Worse than losing his temper at him as he had before. “Thank you, Pearson.” Tully turned and looked at the wall, lightly running his knuckles along it before pressing them harder. “Go away.”

“Tully...” She sounded like she was going to protest, to get him to give something away but he gave her silence. Would only give her, and anyone, silence for the rest of the night. “Let you know more when I know.” The woman was smart. She backed away from his cell door before he exploded and came down after her. He was angry enough at the whole world to do something incredibly stupid. Another drag of his knuckles on the concrete, the pain in them focusing him. Keeping him from raging, because ultimately that wouldn't help Juice. His boy would need his physical help, and mental too and Tully couldn't do that if he wasn't in the right state of mind. He couldn't heal his boy if he was too busy focused on himself. Or even his gang.

He would have so much work to do in the morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few "missing scenes" planned for this work as well. Shall I go ahead and add them here, or a separate work compiling all of the ones for the "My Comforter" series? Let me know in the comments!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene: Chibs Visits Juice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a decision! I'll add them to the works. For the second missing scene, a little bit of feels. Sorry not sorry.

Chibs was satisfied at the look on the Nazi's face, when Chibs told him the truth. Pointed out he'd broken the promise that he'd made to the President, and more importantly Juice. Tully very nearly flew out, storming past his handler guard like he owned the place.

Pissing him off might not have been the smartest move, but Tully needed the cold shower. Chibs got up and banged on his own door. Happy had slipped under Chibs' radar, and he'd own that, but then he'd slipped under Tully's. Chibs threw his colors back on once they were returned to them, smiling sweetly at the gal behind the counter. “C'n ye tell me which hospital they took 'im?” The Scot didn't feel very sweet, but he could act that way to get what he wanted. And he could have it, by rights. They'd never taken his name off of Juice's emergency contacts. “I'm very worried 'bout 'im.” A smart woman would have thought it unusual, despite the paperwork. A late call might have been trying to finish the job off. This was not a very smart woman; Chibs laid his accent on thick and she was blinded. “We were brothers, yanno.”

“Well... All of our inmates go to St. Joe's, but their visiting hours are over.” She giggled, and blushed at his flirtations. At the same time she wrote down the address for the man.

“Ah, well. I'll just find a cheap motel an' wait til mornin'. Thank you, love.” Chibs winked at her, standing straight. “If you're ever in Charming, come look me up.” She wouldn't, but people, even prison workers, liked the idea of being swept off their feet by an outlaw. Chibs needed allies in this place, a cute little secretary was a good start. The outlaw sauntered out of the visiting room, and headed back to his bike. The sun was setting; it would be gorgeous if he wasn't preoccupied with his thoughts. Happy was going to need punishment when he got out. It wasn't even personal, mostly. They'd taken a vote, and then he'd gone and acted on his own when the vote didn't go his way. Chibs headed out of the parking lot, for a moment letting his thoughts go as he brought the big machine up to speed. Happy had risked a valuable alliance with the Aryan Brotherhood for his own need for revenge. Luckily he'd lived through the attempt, though now the club was going to have to do Tully's dirty work for him to keep it that way.

Next church meeting he'd have to make it absolutely fucking clear that should any of them find themselves in Stockton, that Juice was to be ignored. He'd been excommunicated, that was the end of it. Any more was likely to incite Tully's wrath. Chibs gunned it, suddenly, needing to feel the wind on his face and the roar of the wind around him. His own anger, too, but he couldn't let the rest of the club know that. Juice wasn't Chibs' to worry about anymore officially speaking. Hadn't been in years. But Hap's actions made Chibs want to throttle him. Make that punishment personal. It was a good thing that his other brother was still in the prison, because Chibs might have done just that.

Chibs made himself slow down as he reached the outskirts of town. It simply wouldn't do for him to get arrested for speeding. Or have too much attention drawn to him by any of the numerous lookouts other gangs had posted around town. Chibs kept his head down and followed the directions to St. Joseph's Memorial Hospital, where the parking lot was quiet and the lights were low. Of course it was easy to find a parking space near the visitor's entrance, but Chibs didn't go right in immediately. He circled the building once, getting the layout from the outside. Just in case; it had nothing to do with delaying what he said he was going to do. The President wasn't nervous about seeing Juice for the first time since he went in. Never.

He strode in, making his way to the locked prison ward like he had every permission to be in the hospital. Chibs caught people checking him out out of the corner of his eye. If he were here to do something terrible, it might concern him. He was just a friend.

Chibs was finally stopped at the ward's nursing station just outside of the doors. “Hello?” The nurse there, a grizzled old veteran eyeballed him.

Chibs put on that same slick smile he had before. “Aye, jus' got word m'brother was here...uh Juan Carlos Ortiz?” He managed to keep the cringe down. They never used Juice's real name and it felt rusty in Chibs' mouth. “Filip Telford.” His own real name was similar, but that was what they needed. He'd done this a time or two even if it wasn't here.

“ID?” The nurse, her nametag said 'Martha' kept staring him up and down as he handed it over. “Visiting hours are over, Mr. Telford.”

Shit, shit. “I know.” The smile turned a little desperate and it wasn't entirely faked. “Bu' I came from Charming, an' I was jus' at the prison.” Chibs couldn't really stay here overnight, he had to get back to the Club. They had other work beyond doing what Tully wanted them to do.

Martha looked at him for a long time, before comparing it to the records she had for Juice. Finally, though, she stood up. “No colors.” She gestured to his kutte and while Chibs was loathe to hand it over he slipped it off and stuck it in the cubby she indicated. “You have a half hour.” Obviously she was making an exception for him because he'd been Juice's contact. Possibly his only contact, at this point. It made Chibs' heart ache with the thought, even if the boy had dug his own hole. Finally she buzzed him in, and Chibs went through. The door locked behind him, but he didn't flinch. Just made his way down the hallway where the one guard on the unit was standing. It was a quiet week, apparently Juice was the only inmate here.

If Tully hadn't told him, Chibs might have guessed that McManus was on his take. He was big, bald, and Chibs could see the outline of suspenders under his uniform shirt. McManus glared down at him, and Chibs took a quick moment to glance around before speaking. “Tully sent me.” At the eyebrow raise, he continued to speak. He made it clear though that asking this was definitely not what he wanted to do. Because it wasn't. That goddamned movie. “He wantsta know if you've got _veritas_ or _aequitas_ on your hand.” Chibs steeled his face into blankness, but at the same time braced himself for violence.

Fortunately, there was none. McManus didn't laugh, but rolled his eyes. “Tell him I'll tell him once he tells me if he plays banjo and if his cousin was a good lay.” The guard turned to unlock Juice's door as Chibs fought to keep his neutral expression. “How long did she tell you?”

“Half hour.” McManus nodded and opened it. “Thank ye.” Chibs went in; the door remained open behind him of course. Just in case. He paid it no mind; his eyes were on the man in the hospital bed. “Oh, Juicey...” Chibs strode with his heart pounding. The boy looked so very small laying there. IVs in his arms, face black and blue around the tube going down his throat. He was pale, and Chibs might have thought he was dead but for the beeping of the monitor.

He took a breath and came closer, reaching to lightly stroke Juice's fingers. There were scrapes on the knuckles. Juice had gone down fighting. “I'm so sorry, boy.” His heart broke as his mind cataloged the injuries now that he was closer. Broken nose, maybe cheekbone. Ribs. He spotted the tube leading from beneath the covers to a bag hanging off the end with pale yellow liquid in it. Kidney damage, not yet evident but they were keeping an eye on it. Army training that just wouldn't quit and Chibs swallowed the lump in his throat where it stuck in his chest. Chibs might let Tully have his chance at Happy.

A flash of movement in those swollen eyes and the beeping jumped. Juice was awake, and had seen him. Before the boy could panic, Chibs spoke gentle, reaching now to stroke those stupid head tattoos. “Shh, Juice. Shh, not gonna hurt ye.” The beeping slowed, but what Chibs could see of the beautiful brown eyes still held suspicion and fear. He didn't blame the boy though it broke his heart. “Jus' wanted te come see ye.” One pause, to see if the guard was listening. “Was worried about you, lil' one.” His private name, when it was just Juice and him late at night what felt like eons ago. “Had te make sure you were alright.” Chibs reached and lightly tangled the fingers of his free hand in Juice's, and was surprised when Juice gave him a fractional squeeze back. “Good.” He smiled, knowing it was crooked, but if he didn't smile he might sob. “I knew ye would be.”

Another squeeze, and Juice's eyes were full of apology. For betraying Jax, for betraying the club, for betraying Chibs. For the ink that wasn't gone and Happy's anger. Even hopped up on god knows what narcotics, he still spoke volumes to someone who knew how to read him. And Chibs knew every single line of Juice's book. “Shh, s'alright lil' one. Focus on getting' better.” A pause. “We'll take care o' th' rest after, right?” After he healed, after he got out. Who knew, it didn't matter. Chibs could keep that promise, anyway. “Jus' do yer time right.” He knew his smile disappeared but he brought it back for Juice. “Keep Tully happy. 'E misses you already.” Not exactly what Tully wanted him to say but it was close enough. The other thing was vulgar and inappropriate.

Even around the tube breathing for him Juice gave the tiniest smile and the apology was overtaken with adoration for a brief moment. Juice was completely smitten, as much as the Nazi was with him. But then the joy disappeared, replaced once more with pain external and internal. Chibs wanted to hit something. The past had screwed his boy up so much already and the present wasn't doing him any favors. Instead he buried that want, still lightly stroking Juice's skin. “Don' ye worry now, Juicey. Ye'll be alright.” A beat. He didn't want to say it but Juice needed to hear it. “I'll tell Tully ye miss him too?” A squeeze, both a _yes_ and a _please_ at the same time. There was, then, _sorry_ in his eyes. Like he should feel bad for taking pleasure in life where he could. To Chibs it wasn't right, but it was better than the alternative. Juice not fighting at all. Actively trying to die. Chibs had never gotten the image of a rope-burned throat out of his mind. “Shh. No, lil' one. Don't...don't be sorry.” Chibs dropped his forehead to Juices, very very lightly. “Not fer life, 'right? Livin'.” This was getting to be too much, for both of them, and Chibs was going to get kicked out if he pushed Juice too. He rose his head only enough to give Juice a gentle kiss on his forehead, speaking barely above a whisper against his skin. “I'll still be there fer ya.” Even if the club couldn't be, Chibs could. President had its perks. “Cuz I still love ya, lil' one.”

Another squeeze, what was probably the hardest Juice could manage. It wasn't very and Chibs had to swallow another lump. Juice telling him the same. Chibs gave him another kiss, and then straightened but didn't let go. He saw Juice's eyes fluttering. “Go to sleep, Juicey. I'll stay long as I can.” Juice needed the rest, needed to heal. Fight whatever hurt was going on in mind and body. As soon as Chibs said it Juice relaxed again.

The rest of the time Chibs just stood with him, holding his hand. He didn't let himself think, about anything but the young, young man in front of him. How to help him, in prison and once he got out. Chibs needed to find his prisoner number, get some funds into Juice's account. If only so that his boy wasn't so very dependent on Tully. Chibs already had his motorcycle, the repairs for the kickstand would be coming out of Happy's pocket, and Chibs was pretty sure Juice's condo was taking care of. He could check. A quiet throat clear made Chibs turn, and McManus was standing in the doorway. “Sorry, man.” And honestly he did sound apologetic, but Chibs could see Martha behind him looking stern. Obviously she ran this place. “Time's up.”

“'S alright.” Chibs looked down and gave Juice another kiss before setting his hand down. A glance at the clock told him it had been closer to 45 minutes; McManus must have run interference as long as he could. As Chibs passed him he nodded. “Thanks, brother.” The guard didn't respond, just shut Juice's door behind him and Chibs followed Martha quietly. He tossed on his kutte, sliding it on where it belonged and strode out without talking to her. Somewhere he'd stashed Juice's intake paperwork, or he could just ask Jarry for the numbers he needed. That would be a last resort, Chibs decided as he exited the hospital. It was dark, now. Chibs was going to have to take the straight way, the highway back. The more scenic route was underlit and dangerous. Juice would have loved taking the scenic route with him, Chibs was reminded as he climbed up onto his bike.

But he couldn't. He was stuck in a hospital bed behind him, while the man who'd put him there had been a brother intent on killing him. Juice was protected, saved, by a Nazi. “Where did it all go wrong, Jackie boy?” Chibs spoke aloud to no one, and to Jax at the same time and now the lumps were back. He couldn't stop the tears from spilling this time, now that he was alone and didn't have to keep from scaring Juice. Chibs put his face in his hands again, and let them flow. Not just for Juice but their broken family that struggled to pick up the pieces, that he was the head of but couldn't seem to find the right glue to put them together.

Chibs didn't cry long, and numbly he got the beastly engine to come to life. Even taking the highway back he'd have plenty of time to think. There was always work to be done.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do have some "missing scenes" planned, though I haven't written them yet. Shall I add them to this work, or create a separate works page to compile them all from the "My Comforter" series? Let me know in the comments!


End file.
